Hiding in the Shadows
by x Veela x
Summary: Ron and Hermione are in their last year of Hogwarts, Harry's left to pursue Voldemort, Malfoy's still after them, what is going on? xxx
1. Sneaking Around

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR.**

She gazed into the flames, their fiery sentiment the opposite of her heart. He had promised.

"I'll be there," he had said, "don't worry, I'll be fine." Her eyes watered, due to her closeness to the flames, or her memory of Harry's head floating in them, Ginny did not know.

"Ginny?" She turned round with a start, hoping that tonight was the night he would appear.

"Oh, hello Hermione."

"Ginny, don't worry. If he were hurt you would know about it. Everyone else has gone to bed and you're just going to worry yourself sick if you stay up. Go to bed. When you wake up you'll be one day closer to seeing him again." Hermione's words of comfort did little to mend Ginny's aching heart, but she put on a smile and went upstairs. Hermione was right, as usual. She was doing herself no good staying up all night.

"Mione?" Ron's voice whispered through the semi-darkness of the Burrow's kitchen.

"Ron! What are you doing down here? It's past midnight."

"Well," he drawled, "Like you, I just couldn't sleep without a bit of late night studying." He grinned as she raised an eyebrow, "No, seriously I just thought if there were any leftovers lying around. When Harry stayed over we used to…" His voice tailed away.

"Oh, Ron I'm really worried. Ginny's driving herself insane. I mean, what if he was hurt, or-"

"Whatever he does, we'll know about it. If he doesn't tell us, the Prophet will. You know Mum's been committing every article involving Harry to memory just lately." At his words, Hermione's worried expression relaxed a little.

Ron continued, "Well, Ginny's sharing with Fleur, but Harry' not here, so if you don't want to be on your own…" He left it hanging. Hermione followed him out the door and up the staircase. He peered round the corner to check no one was watching, then ushered Hermione into his room. He locked the door and turned around. Hermione let he dressing gown fall to the floor. She was wearing a silvery-blue spaghetti-strap nightie that reached midway to her knees. Ron stared openly at all the curves that had been magnified over the past few years and that were enhanced by the soft brown curls spilling over her shoulders.

"One kiss, then I swear I will go to bed." He asked her.

He was lying and they both knew it. She stepped forward into his outstretched arms feeling all the muscles his quidditch playing had produced surround her as he tilted her face upwards and brushed her lips with his. He let his arms fall to his side as his eyes locked hers, heat blazing across from his to hers. He waited. She decided. She stepped forward again and his arms encircle her waist.

"I never said I'd go to bed alone" Ron whispered. He picked Hermione up bridal style and walked over to lay her on his bed. He lay next to her and she brought her lips to his again as her hands when to his shirt. She undid the buttons one by one as his fingers entangled in her hair. He shrugged out of his shirt and her hands moved down his chest to his hips. When he was wearing nothing but his boxers, he spun her underneath him.

"Love you, Mione" he breathed as he slid the straps off her shoulders.

* * *

Morning Mrs. Weasley." Hermione called as she walked into the kitchen. "Do you w-want," yawn, "any h-help?" 

"Oh hello dear," she replied absently, "Didn't get a good night?" Before Hermione had a chance to reply Mrs Weasley continued, "Well, no of course you wouldn't, we're all so worried about Harry. It's become rather a tradition that he spends Christmas with us. I felt a bit snubbed when he chose to be Voldemort's dinner guest instead of mine." Her attempt at a joke just deepened her worry as she picked up the Prophet and searched it again for any hint about Harry's current whereabouts or predicament.

She needn't have worried however. Miles away, Harry pushed open the old oak door to the pub.

"Ah, Mr. Smith, the usual I presume?" The barmen called as he noted Harry come in in a flurry of snow.

"Thanks, Tim." Harry replied and handed over some coins before sitting down in a dark corner with a good viewpoint of the crowd around the fire. His upper lip curled into a snarl as he saw Draco swagger up to the applauding Death Eaters. He pulled Pansy into his lap and kissed her before smirking at his followers and making small half-hearted shushing motions with his hand. A sudden jealousy erupted in Harry's chest as he watched Draco and Pansy. His mind wandered back to Ginny again. Although he thought that being in the same house as her was torture, he preferred it to being miles away from her. He'd have to send her a letter, no matter how risky it was. He had to see her, talk to her, touch her. He imagined that flowery scent of her hair that had such an effect on him. When he was with her, he felt that she was in the safest place in the world, although his brain told him otherwise.

As the group broke up to find their own enjoyments, Harry looked away from Draco and Pansy entwined together. Clearly they were not going to discuss plans tonight. He looked at his watch - twenty-one twenty-six. At the Burrow, Ginny would be just waking up.

Hermione almost skipped up the stairs as she went to mess up her bed before making it again differently to the previous morning. On her way back downstairs she passed Ginny's room and heard her sobbing inside. Hermione tapped on the door. 

"Hello Hermione" she sniffed.

"Hey, you might want to come downstairs," She said, giving Ginny a hug, "there's a certain snowy owl eating your breakfast cereal. The effect these words had on Ginny was electrifying. Two minutes later she had dashed downstairs and was untying a letter from Hedwig, who affectionately nipped at her finger.

She looked at the writing. It was just her name and a x underneath. Yes this was definitely from him. She felt her stomach swoop as butterflies flittered inside.

"Umm, I'm not that hungry, I think I'll just come back down for a snack later." Her fingers trembled as she broke the seal on the parchment.

_Gin,_

_I knew after his death that it wasn't going to be easy. During Bill and Fleur's wedding I felt tortured with you being so close, yet so far away from me. But being away from you is so much harder. I've managed to find out that He's doing nothing in the next two weeks. Nothing has changed, I still feel the same way about you as I did during the time we were going out. I hope I'm still welcome for Christmas._

_Love_

_X_

He hadn't dared to put his name at the end in case the letter had been intercepted.

"Mum!" Ginny yelled down the stairs, "Harry's coming for Christmas!"

So what do you think? Please Please Please review and keep reading cos the next chapter is almost written and ready xxx


	2. An overdose of crack No, not the drug

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR. I don't really own the plot for this bit either - the salt on ice thing belongs to Tamora Pierce.**

**Chapeter 2 - An overdose of crack - No, not the drug**

**Confused by the name of the chapter – well so am I – I didn't know what else to call it and while typing it out I ended up putting the word _crack_ into copy and paste mode I used it so much… So…Anyway… The Thlot Pickens…**

"Ronald it's freezing. Why are we outside in the cold, cold snow when we could be inside in front of roaring _warm_ flames?" Hermione stamped her feet impatiently as she waited for him to zip his coat up.

"'Cos since she knew Harry's coming Mum's been doing Winter cleaning and I am sick of her trailing after me, "_pick up this_", "_tidy that_", "how _do you expect those cups to get from under your bed to the kitchen sink?_", "_Ronald! What did I say about feet and furniture on the floor?_"! It's not as if Harry's an unusual visitor!" The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched as she listened to Ron's rant with occasional impressions of his mother.

He took her hand and led her down the pathway. As they walked further and further, the trees became closer together until the weak morning sun was almost completely blocked out by the bushy green of the trees. The ground looked like leopard print as a few patches of light fought their way through here and there. They came to a clearing surrounding a circular small lake and Hermione was reminded of the time in her third year at Hogwarts where she had seen Harry's magnificent silvery stag save Sirius.

The lake was iced over and Hermione realized it was snowing. Not just tiny half-hearted snow dribbling down, but beautiful flakes of snow floated down over them. As she stared around her at the beauty of the secret clearing she heard a crack behind her and thought she saw a flicker of white-blonde hair disappear behind a tree.

"C'mon 'Mione!" Ron yelled as he turned and saw her staring around. She brushed the thought out of her mind and joined Ron sitting on a log. He took her skates out of his bag and thought how beautiful she looked just sitting there. She held her hand out for the skates, but he captured it and brushed it with his lips. They heard a muffled snigger and he spun his head around.

"Oh great. I bet this is Fred and George's idea of a joke. Armed with cameras." They picked up their bags and hid behind a tree.

"Awww Draco! Why wouldn't you let me see this? It's soooo pretty! Pansy's voice squealed. Malfoy and Nott sat down on the same log Ron and Hermione were on only seconds before and got their skates on (sorry I couldn't think of a better way to put it). They walked onto the ice as Crabbe and Goyle stood either side of Pansy.

"I bet I can go round the whole way without skidding." Nott threw down a pathetic challenge.

"Twice," Malfoy accepted.

"Three times!" Pansy declared, delight clearly showing on her face.

"Three it is." Agreed Nott. He set off around the edge of the lake, picking up speed as he went. Once, two times around. Midway through the third time around, he put his foot down a tad harder than he meant to and a small crack formed. He didn't skid, but managed to keep going round the remaining half of the lake, the crack following him part way.

Pansy mistook Draco's grimace for a sneer, and applauded before pushing Draco out onto the lake.

_Oh shit. I'll just have to say I won't do it_

_But that'll make me look a coward_

_An alive coward_

_In front of Weasleby and the Mudblood?_

_Why not – she can't laugh at you, otherwise –_

"Go on Draco! I _know_ you'll win." Pansy smirked.

_Well- maybe I'll just cut corners_

_It's a circle you idiot! There are no corners!_

Draco set off whirring round faster and faster.

"Now, now Draco," Nott drawled, "No skipping. Round the full perimeter!"

The second time he had to go over the crack. It widened alarmingly.

_Next time, if I go over it really fast maybe my weight will be on it for less time and so – _

He picked up speed, Pansy cheering him on until _crack_ as he approached the crack, the ice broke and he was submerged in icy, black water. He tried to breathe but his lungs filled with water. He heard Pansy's shriek as his head bobbed up to the surface.

Ron's hand was clamped over Hermione's mouth trying to stifle her laughter as his own body shook with suppressed mirth. He watched transfixed as Crabbe and Goyle skidded onto the ice in their trainers, falling over and trying to grab each other to gain balance or control, but finding neither. Somehow they managed to reach Malfoy, but they fell through the cracked ice and into the water, their superior weight pushing Malfoy down below the surface as Nott's lean frame restrained Pansy.

Draco hastily gulped a mouthful of air before being shoved under again.

_Those bloody buffoons!_ He cursed them silently. Suddenly his ankles were seized and he was being dragged under further. He pulled out his wand and shot curses into the water until he was able to surface. His lungs exploded as he began to choke. He grabbed the masses of weight surrounding him and with a cracking sound had apparated himself and his cronies to the edge of the lake.

Nott hauled Crabbe and Goyle off him and banged him on the back, making him expel all the water he had swallowed. Pansy ran to him and whipped out her wand. She pointed it at him and he felt himself beginning to get feeling back to his limbs as his clothing began to dry out her spell.

"Oh my God! Are you OK?" She squealed. Draco nodded and stood up a little straighter to try and convince her and flicked his hair out of his eyes. Sensing he wanted a change of subject, Nott asked, "Anyway, what was that you were saying about Potter returning to Weasleby's this afternoon?"

Draco cast a furtive glance around at the tree Ron and Hermione were hiding behind. "Err…let's go back to the pub and discuss it there." He held his hand out to Pansy and was gone with a crack. Nott grabbed Crabbe and Goyle and followed after Draco (crack).

Ron looked round at Hermione, her face was pale.

"Malfoy didn't want to skate on that bit of the ice – I saw him looking at it even before Nott cracked it," she said as if she was thinking an essay plan through, "and that ice is very thick and Nott isn't really that heavy – I remember Dean saying after he picked a fight with him. And how did Malfoy know that Harry – Ron do you think –"

"That it was fixed?" Ron's eyebrows rose and some of his colour faded as they ran over closest to the edge where the cracked ice was floating broken on the surface.

"Accio ice shard." A piece of iced shimmered towards Hermione making a shower of rainbows out of the water trailing behind it as light flickered around, refracting through the frozen water.

"What's this?" Ron ran a gloved hand over the surface.

"It's snow, Ron." She replied wondering at his intelligence.

"No, no it's not." He brushed his hand over the surface again. Wetness came away with white flakes of snow.

"Now you've got a wet glove I suppose." Hermione pointed her wand at the dark dragon skin. The water evaporated and some snow melted. Hermione stared at the white flecks still on his glove. Was her magic failing?

He raised his hand to his mouth and his tongue darted out to taste the white flakes. He licked his lips and grimaced as he brought his hand to her mouth. She pursed her lips, her expression confused. He wanted her to eat snow? He kissed her. His lips weren't as sweet as normal. They tasted different.

"Salt," she whispered as they broke apart.

**Now don't go round eating salt! It's bad for you! Just because Ron did it doesn't mean you have to. He may be … well … now that I think about it …No, he's definitely NOT a good role model!**

**I know this seems all Ron/Hermione but Harry and Ginny are yet to come.**

**Yes, yes I know Draco/Pansy hmmm but really…who else could be his girlfriend, I mean come on she is SUCH a drip.**

**Forwriting further chapters:I don't have a brother so i don't know why brothers (Ron) are so protective of their baby sisters (Ginny) so if anyone feels that they can explain that to me I will be extremely grateful!**

**You know what to do now - push the little purple buttonxxx**


	3. Behind Closed Doors

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR.**

**This chapter contains swearing and a little bit more detailed sexual themes so don't read it if you're going to get offended.**

**Janine I couldn't NOT write it xXx**

**Chapter 3 - **

Ron leapt up the stairs three at a time with Hermione in pursuit.

"Fred! George! Get the extendables!"

"Ohhh we knew you'd eventually come round and see the light. Look George -"

"Yes, Fred, I know, we've saved a Weasley from the headboy route."

"When he got prefect I thought we'd failed." The twins hung their heads in mock despair before brightening up, their eyes glittering maliciously with what was to come.

After their morning at the lake, he and Hermione had told the twins everything. After all, who better than them to cook up a cover up story as to their whereabouts that morning? Only minutes before, Ron was telling his father that Malfoy knew Harry was coming (with a few details left out) when his mother had walked into the kitchen and started to prepare lunch.

"So you're saying that he knows that you know that, er- he knows that Harry's coming?" Arthur asked.

"This afternoon." Ron added.

"Who knows what?" Molly demanded as she rounded on her husband.

Ron backed away, "Er, I'll just go and get the er thingame from the whatsit…"

The twins had returned and shared the extendable ears out.

"She must have put a slicencing charm on the door." George observed.

"What a shame." Fred replied, pointing his wand at the other ends as they slithered under the kitchen door.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked from the doorway of her room.

Fred put a finger to his lips and George motioned for her to come and join them.

"Well!" Mrs Weasley's voice rang out as clear as if she was standing next to them.

"So, Arthur. You are telling me that while I went shopping ang left you, my husband, in the care of our children, you did not notice that our youngest son and Hermione, who is like a daughter to me went out without you having a clue where they were or anything? They could have been attacked, killed even!" She screeched.

"Molly they are of age-"

"And now I find out that Harry's coming here is not so secret -after all we've done to keep it quiet? I didn't go Lockheart's love's coffee club this morning because I knew that I might tell somebody! It's too late to do anything now, I suppose. I want to keep this as quiet as possible. Let's not let anybody know anything they don't have to know. Ginny especially, I don't want Harry's visit to be spoiled in any way for her. And I don't think it would be a good idea to tell the twins either. I think we need an Order meeting after lunch. In fact, let's invite Remus and Tonks around for lunch." She removed the silencing charm from the kitchen door and shouted up the stairs, "Girls! Can I have some help with lunch, please?"

_Lunch. Lunch. No wonder she needed help for Lunch._ Ron was bored. The Weasleys who were at the Burrow were all around the kitchen table and had been for an hour and a half eating Mrs Weasley's gorgeous fully home-made cooking and listening to the females talk about Tonks's wedding to Remus.

"Yes, Molly," she was saying, "I know it's a bit late in the day, but I've been after this ring for a long time and, well, it's now or never. Plus, it's not like we're the only ones getting hitched in a hurry, what with the coming of the- the erm" She floundered at Molly's look, " coming of Christmas."

"Yes, how festive." Arthur cut in with a smile, he jerked his head at Ron and Hermione and said, "do you two want to go upstairs? Boys? Ginny?"

They left the kitchen, leaving Mrs Weasley, Mr Weasley, Remus and Tonks round the table.

Ginny went into her room, shut the door and put some music on, trying to calm herself down.

Ron led Hermione into his room and shut the door.

As the twins went into their room, George said,

"Well, Fred, I don't know about you, but I feel a bit shut out." There were two cracks and two girls appeared in front of them.

"Angelina!"

"Alicia!"

"How about us changing that feeling then?"

**In Ginny's room…**

What if something goes wrong? What if Malfoy tries to get to him?

_All because of me. This is why he broke up with me. This is how he would be feeling. He said nothing had changed. What if he changes his mind? What are we going to do when he comes. Am I going to be with him on my own? What are we going to talk about? What if he kisses me? What if he wants to have sex?_

Oh my god. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. In – There was a thud as Ginny fell to the floor.

**In Ron's room…**

He staggered backwards as she pushed him towards the bed. He tripped over and the fell to the floor, their lips still glued together. Hermione's hands ran down his chest, making his shirt come open. He unzipped her jacket. She shrugged out of it and he lifted her tight t-shirt over her head, making her pony-tail fall out as loose curls tumbled around her shoulders. He ran his hands over the bright blue lace at the top of her black push-up bra. She arched her back and unbuckled his belt, brushing his fly as she did so.

_Hermione you are fucking amazing_

"Thanks" She smiled.

_Bloody hell! I didn't realise I said it out loud!_

"Hang on-" Ron rolled off her. She sat up and looked expectantly at him, "last night-"

"Was amazing." He stared at her. He was suddenly thankful that he had several older brothers. Clearly their knowledge had paid off.

"You know you're the most beautiful girl I know, right?"

_Thud_.

**In the twins room…**

"So, girls, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"We were bored and thought you, our boyfriends, might be in need of some _entertainment_." Alicia replied.

"But we wanted to _spice_ it up a bit." Angela added.

They took a box out and shook it, something rattling inside.

"Interested?"

"Oh yeah..."

xxx No more needs to be said xxx

Except-

"Whoa, where did you learn to do that?"

_Thud _

"Piss off, Perce!"

**In the kitchen…**

"And then Remus proposed! I was so happy!"

"So you should be, we been waiting for you for a long time. Haven't we Arthur? Arthur?"

"Ah, yes dear. So what are we going to do about Harry?"

_Thud_

**On the staircase…**

"Mum! Ginny's fainted!"

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	4. The Arrival

**Disclaimer: However much I might wish I did, unfortunately I do not own any of these characters… They all belong to JKR.**

_Chapter 4 – The Arrival_

_Previously:_

On the Staircase… 

"_Mum! Ginny's fainted!"

* * *

_

Mrs Weasley flew up the stairs and into her daughter's bedroom. Hermione switched the stereo off as Mrs Weasley knelt beside her daughter.

"Ginny! Ginny, dear." Ginny's eyes opened and her mother's face broke out in a smile. Fleur appeared behind her, her eyes flickering around Ginny's room, trying to search for what had caused her to faint. She saw it on the desk next to Hermione's hand. Fleur looked meaningfully at it until Hermione looked down. On the desk, there was a photo of Ginny with Harry, Ron and herself. It had been taken in the term while Harry and Ginny were going out. They were all sitting by the lake, laughing together. Photo Harry tugged on Photo Ginny's hand in his own, their fingers entwined together as he whispered something in his ear. Hermione remembered threatening to hex Colin Creevy if he didn't give her the photo. She recalled him saying that he wanted to put it in the Biography of Harry's life he was going to write with his brother. Ginny caught her eye and looked back to her mother. Hermione obediently slipped the photo in her pocket.

"What's the matter, darling?" Mrs Weasley asked her daughter.

"Umm, I think I just haven't had enough to drink. Ginny took Hermione's offered hands and she managed to pull herself slowly up.

"Well, let's get you a mug of tea then." Mrs Weasley stood up and shooed Ron and Hermione out of Ginny's room and led them all down to the kitchen.

* * *

"Right, now, Miss Weasley," Hermione addressed Ginny back in the confines of Ginny's room. Mrs Weasley in an effort to make Ginny and Fleur friends, rather than civilised acquaintances had set Fleur up in Ginny's room with her. Tonight, however, Fleur would be out with a few friends. In other words, she didn't want to witness the awkward beginning when Harry arrived. "What was that all about?" Ginny looked at her, mirroring her cross-legged position as she faced Hermione on her bed and said simply,"Harry." Hermione looked back at her, confused. Ginny had been after Harry since day one, Harry had realised he loved her more than just as his best friend's little sister and gone out with her. Hermione also knew that Harry still loves Ginny even after they broke up, "Why? He still loves you. Gin, he loves you so much he doesn't want to be – connected in _that_ way with you because he doesn't want to put you in danger." Gin took the offered hand and turned it over, tracing the lines on Hermione's palm so she wouldn't have to look at her face. "What if something goes wrong? What if Malfoy tries to get to him? And I know he said nothing had changed, but what if he changes his mind? I mean, what is he going to say to me – "Sorry, Gin, but I've realised it was a huge mistake." And what are we going to talk about – there's just going to be these massive awkward silences? But what if he decides he does love me and starts kissing me?" She forced herself to raise her eyes to meet Hermione's as she voiced with a certain amount of mortification, "What if he wants to have sex?" 

Hermione paused for a moment to take all of this in before thinking about what Ginny had just said to her. "Well, as Hagrid said, "What will come, will come and we'll meet it when it does" or something like that that means the same thing, so that covers the first two. Harry keeps his word, even if he doesn't love you, which he does, he would not tell you like that. If he kisses you, well, kiss him back and don't you think…the last one… is getting a bit ahead of yourself?" She couldn't bring herself to say the "s" word. Although spending time with the Weasley's had taught her that fun could happen as well as polite manners, she still held on to her prim attitude that had been engraved into her.

Ginny visibly relaxed, though still not entirely secure. She was mentally laughing at Hermione for not being able to say "the "s" word". "Well, on the subject of…the last one…" she grinned as Hermione's expression turned slightly apprehensive, "Going by yours and Ron's time scale, no it isn't."

A voice appeared at her door, "What time scale is this?" Hermione gave Ginny a _look_ and they both laughed.

"Nothing!" Ginny's singsong voice proclaimed as she stretched her arms up.

"Oh, well, right then. It's nearly four, I thought you might like to come downstairs to wait." They traipsed down the stairs, Ginny shooting Hermione knowing smirks as her cheeks turned pinker and pinker until they both burst out laughing. Ron paused to stare at them, but the look on Hermione's face told him that it was something that he'd be better off not knowing about.

The rest of the Weasley household along with Remus and Tonks were assembled on various pieces of furniture, the twins arguing about quidditch with their father and Bill, while Mrs Weasley was fussing around. Hermione and Ron sank into a wide armchair, much to Mrs Weasley's disapproving glares, but were not told off, because footsteps clattered on the gravel pathway. Mrs Weasley rushed out into the kitchen to bring Harry into the lounge, giving him a crushing hug amongst a cry of "Harry dear!" Harry appeared in the lounge doorway unscathed and made his way around the room. He greeted Mr Weasley, Bill, the twins, Remus, Tonks, leant down to hug Hermione's shoulders and slap Ron on the back with a wink at Hermione. All this happened with various versions of "Harry! How are you, nice to see you." And smiles accompanied my laughter. Ginny was sitting on the middle of the sofa; when she stood up, the room fell silent. "Hey, Harry." Was all she said. He walked towards her and gave her a loose hug while whispering something in her ear. Her facial expression was unreadable as the sat on the sofa together, Harry's arm resting on the back. Mrs Weasley's rattle of a drinks tray and, "Right, then." Brought them back to their senses as the chat started up again. Throughout the next hour, Ginny and Hermione exchanged various meaningful looks with each other that Ron couldn't fathom. He softly asked Hermione what it was all about." She shook her head at him, but another thirty minutes later had given up and resorted to ask for his help.

A few seconds later, and Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny were on their way upstairs to the room Harry and Ron were sharing. They paused at the door and Ginny pushed her brother in, silently telling him that she didn't want to be on her own with Harry.

She needed some time to summon up the courage, but when the last fork had been put down after a sumptuous evening meal, and the twins had started to yawn theatrically, Ginny managed to voice, "Why don't Harry and I do the dishes tonight, Mum?" Her mother looked up at her daughter.

"Thankyou, that's very kind of you. I think I could do with an early night." Everyone else filed out of the room as Harry and Ginny began levitating cutlery into the sink.

The jerky conversation had halted and Ginny realised Hermione hadn't covered what to talk about. Listening to the silence, she realised that it wasn't an awkward silence; it didn't need filling. Through the silence, Harry made ways to touch Ginny. Seemingly innocent touches, his hand touching hers as he passed the next plate, his shoulder brushing hers as the moved around, his hands on her waist gently moving her out the way as he placed the dishes in a high cupboard. But they meant more.

The kitchen spotless, she walked towards the doorway, about to go upstairs, but he grabbed her wrist. She turned around to face him. He pulled her to him, placing his lips over hers.

"Sorry." He whispered, kissing her again. "Sorry." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and quickly walked out the kitchen. She followed him upstairs slowly, quick enough to see Hermione sneak out of Ron's room, passed her parent's room as Harry shut the door behind him.

**Reviews would be appreciated xXx**


	5. Double Trouble

**Disclaimer: Next time I look in the mirror, I shall try and remember not to delude myself that I am a) pretty, b) rich, c) intelligent or d) The owner of HP and his universe…On with the show…**

**This chapter has been deleted and re-posted to include Part 2 as I wanted the chapter numbers in the scroll bar to correspond to the chapter numbers on the screen, did that make sense?**

**Chapter 5**

**PartI – _The early bird catches the worm_**

_**Previously:**_

_He pulled her to him, placing his lips over hers._

"_Sorry." He whispered, kissing her again. "Sorry." He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and quickly walked out the kitchen. She followed him upstairs slowly, quick enough to see Hermione sneak out of Ron's room, passed her parent's room as Harry shut the door behind him._

Harry returned to the room he was sharing with Ron next morning with a towel wrapped round his waist, crystal drops precariously dangling at the tips of his spider-webbed hair. Ron had woken even earlier, determinedly carrying out his quidditch practice, so as not to lose his hard-worked-for six-pack Hermione was so fond of. He pushed the door open, his head bowed as he prepared to edge around the items strewn around their bomb-site, only to find that he only had to give the door a little tickle before it opened onto a completely spotless floor. He was even able to catch sight of a previously hidden Chudley Cannons rug near Ron's bed.

Harry blinked a couple of times and was startled when he raised his head to find Mrs Weasley smiling at him. His cheeks flushed a little as he noticed that the collection of items that had somehow made their way underneath beds had now reappeared on top of the duvet. "Ah, er…" He was about to back out of the room when Mrs Weasley held out a hand and motioned for him to come in and close the door behind him. He glanced uncomfortably down, but did as Mrs Weasley wished and came to stand before her. He looked nervously around when he noticed that she had a _look_ in her eyes.

She sat down on the edge of Ron's bed and gestured for Harry to mirror her on his own bed. He swallowed when she held up what was in her right hand, but had no time to dwell on the lecture he was about to receive because she had already started speaking.

"Now, Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley began, "I love you like one of my sons, and you know that. You are welcome anytime here at the Burrow, and I will welcome you as one of the family." Harry tried to look away from her, but her gaze held him paralysed, "However," she continued, " I know that you are _not_ my son and that you are beyond your time at Hogwarts. I also know I have no right to tell you what you can and can't do, Harry, but Ginny _is_ my only daughter." Harry tried to speak, but he couldn't keep his eyes of the symmetrical silky black contrasted against the pretty electric blue lace that rested in Mrs Weasley's hand in her lap.

Somehow, he managed to unglue his lips, but no sound came out as he sat there gaping like a goldfish. This gave Mrs Weasley another opportunity to carry on, "I am aware that, for a short while, you and Ginny were together, and I know that she is still deeply enamoured with you, and as you broke up for her safety, I suspect that you are equally fond of her. As much as I approve of you relationship, I do have queries about the level of involvement. It has not escaped my mind that you are still battling for your life, along with many others and -"

"Mrs Weasley," Harry managed to interrupt, the mention of the battle shaking him out of his Rabbit-in-the-headlights State, "I appreciate and understand everything you're saying to me but, er, I don't think that's Ginny's…" He left it hanging.

She raised an eyebrow at him and then smiled at him, "Ah, I understand," her eyes darted around the room before stilling on the mess covering Ron's bed, "Well, I'm glad we had this little chat anyway. I'll go and fix breakfast, you need feeding up again." She walked out of the room, her arms full with the laundry basket and shut it firmly behind her as Harry shook his head and found some clothes.

Mrs Weasley placed the small wicker basket under one arm as she strolled down the corridor, just catching slight of a flick of brown dart round a corner.

"Hermione!" She called out. The young lady reappeared with a smile at the end of the corridor and walked towards Mrs Weasley in black jeans and a form-fitting off-the-shoulder red top with a book clasped protectively to her chest. Mrs Weasley beckoned her closer as Hermione approached with a now slightly apprehensive expression.

"I think this belongs to you," she whispered, holding out the item of lingerie. Hermione's cheeks flushed a brilliant pink as her mouth parted slightly in a gasp.

"Oh, erm, yes…thankyou...I, erm…"

Mrs Weasley smiled at Hermione and squeezed her hand as she gave her the bra back, "Don't worry about it now, dear. Next time, you might want to be a little more discreet in this house full of boys. Now is not the right time, but I will need to have a little chat with you both."

Hermione didn't need to ask who else Mrs Weasley was referring to.

**Chapter 5**

**PartII – _The Damage is Done_**

"Hey, Sweetie, I'll be down in a minute, I want to get five-in-a-row." Ron hollered across the Weasley's back yard, above which he was hovering, a ball encircled in his arm as he pelted towards a ring magically levitated into mid-air. Hermione smiled and waved up at her boyfriend as she went to sit pixie-style on a tree stump, casting a bubble of warmth around her. Her book in her lap, she absent-mindedly ran her forefinger down the edge of her page as she tried to concentrate on the minuscule ink printed at the centre. Every now and then she glanced up to see Ron swerve round to catch the ball he had just tossed at the hoop with a muscular arm. She mentally scolded herself and returned to the book, her bookmark still shielding some of the page.

A few minutes later, her next distraction was a drop of water that dripped off a nearby branch, melted by her charm to run a glistening path in between her shoulder blades.

"Talent firing back at you, Mione?" Unnoticed by her, Ron had swooped down in front of her with a grin on his face as he watched her colour. She tossed a chestnut curl away form her face and smiled,

"More like dripping _on_ me, but never mind." They both laughed as he hauled her off the stump and into his chilled arms. Her fingernails trailing through his already windswept hair made him shiver, but Hermione mistook the shiver for coldness. "Come on," she murmured into his jumper, "Let's get inside, your mother is waiting for us."

Ron looked down at her with a grim but slightly amused expression on his face, "Oh, what did she find?" In return, Hermione told him about her encounter with Molly Weasley. As she finished, she added, "Harry says that he has been asked to keep the rest of the family…occupied…while your mother is with us."

This piece of information clearly took a minute to sink in as Ron suddenly stopped his nodding head, "Hang on, wait a sec, how does Harry know?" Hermione burst out laughing, "He said that she thought that the bra was Ginny's." At that Ron roared with laughter and they turned towards the house and their scolding with smiles on their faces. Hermione slyly glanced at him, thankful that he had not stopped to think why Ginny might own…_pretty_…lingerie.

What Hermione did not know, however, was at that very moment, those very thoughts were slipping into the mind of our hero. He was presently lounging around on the living room sofa opposite Bill and Charlie play a loud game of gobstones, egged on vigorously by the twins. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy on Ginny, curled up in an armchair with a book spread open on her lap. Although her deception was fooling her father and brothers, he saw past it. Her eyes were not moving and although her fingers played with the corner of a page, it was the same page that had been soaking up that attention for twenty minutes. _Hang on, am I actually jealous of a __book? This has got to stop_. Harry shook his head like a dog trying to rid itself of water and went back to Ginny-watching. His eyes travelled along with the sway of her hair, falling off her shoulders, a few strands clinging to the edge of her collarbone as she repeatedly twisted the ends around her finger. This, of course, quite naturally and unintentionally you understand, brought his gaze further down her body along curves that lay hidden to all but herself. _And Dean Thomas._ The smarter part of Harry's brain commented to himself. He wondered if Dean Thomas actually _did_ get that far. And if Mrs. Weasley thought the bra was Ginny's…and the bra wasn't exactly small…that would mean she was round about the same size as Hermione.

Images that Harry had been trying to rid his mind of formed in his mind; all the times he had accidentally walked in on Hermione in various stages of undress suddenly changed into Ginny. No, Ginny was only a small girl, very slight as well; he couldn't expect _that_ much, could he? _Dude, what are you thinking? You can't expect anything, you broke up with her, remember?_ Harry glanced again at her. _Get those pictures out your head NOW!_ Just one more look wouldn't hurt…_I said NOW!_ Harry reluctantly drew his eyes down to his hands. He knew she shouldn't be staring at her like that. She was Ginny, not some random girl, she was the girl he dated, the girl he still fancied, the girl he kissed last night, the girl he loved, the girl he wanted to – _Hang on, __loved?_

Just as he was about to argue with himself again, Harry felt a slight wrench in his mind similar to something he had felt before, but couldn't place. He began to think about it, clearing all thoughts of Ginny from his mind. As fast as it came, it vanished, leaving a feeling of a slight chill in the caverns of his mind.

Before he could ponder any more, the back door flew open with a bang and Ron and Hermione stamped in, ridding the snow from their shoes. AS they disrobed of their outside gear, Molly Weasley appeared from the kitchen with a large plate of freshly baked home-made cookies. She brought it into the lounge and placed it on the central table already holding various warming drinks. Ron reached out for a biscuit, but his mother slapped his hand away. As she turned her back, Fred and George crammed large mouthfuls in their younger brother's face. Mrs Weasley brought a second tray out with three steaming mugs on it and levitated it up the stairs. She followed it and beckoned imperiously to Ron and Hermione. "Come with me, dears, I need a word with you upstairs."

The pair's feet trailed out of sight with ominous creaking from the stairs. Their was an instant buzz in the lounge, the Weasley's all questioning each other and Harry what the young couple had done. Apparently, none of them seemed to know. Ginny caught Harry's eye and they both looked away again as his stomach swooped as if he was on a roller coaster. Yes, last night was definitely going to be repeated over the holidays…

**Go on, give me a nice long review...you know you want to make me smile...and there might be some cookies left...**

**Love,**

**x Imperial Princess x**


	6. Just Like You, Part I

**Disclaimer:**

**Roses are Red,**

**Violets are blue,**

**I don't own it,**

**And neither do you.**

**The first time I wrote Chapter 6 I typed it all out and then it hadn't saved and I couldn't get any of it back. So I just hope you lot appreciate the trouble I have gone through to try and get you an early update like you asked for (even if I didn't manage it) and I just hope you repay me with reviews.**

**I know some of the dates are probably inaccurate, some I know to be correct, like the CoS, James and Lily dates, but I have made it so that Molly was 45 when the Order of the Phoenix was summoned again.**

**Just a note to unconfused some of you: in previous chapters, Ron and Hermione have not had sex, they just became extremely close.**

**Hiding In The Shadows**

_Chapter 6 – Just Like You_

_Part I_

**Previously:**

_The pair's feet trailed out of sight with ominous creaking from the stairs. Their was an instant buzz in the lounge, the Weasley's all questioning each other and Harry what the young couple had done. Apparently, none of them seemed to know. Ginny caught Harry's eye and they both looked away again as his stomach swooped as if he was on a roller coaster. Yes, last night was definitely going to be repeated over the holidays…_

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ron and Hermione dared not catch each other's eyes as they followed Mrs Weasley up the stairs. Hermione's stomach seemed like a gaping hole sucking in her insides. She had never been told off for something for a long time, and even then the rebuke came from her parents. She was sure that Ron's mother would be furious with them. She had trusted them with freedom, given them an inch, and they had reeled it more than a yard. Why could they not have waited until there was less stress? Why did they have to go so quickly?

A reasoning voice inside her mind answered her; they had known each other since they were eleven, fancied each other since they discovered the other's name, dreamed about each other as their feelings became stronger, fantasized about each other when hormones took that vice like grip around their minds and hearts. That mountain of waiting, longing, desire for each other had grown with a determination to reach its first peak, and that peak had been reached.

She knew he loved her, although he had never said the complete three words aloud. He had managed to miss the first word, the most possessive word, the word that gave a sense of personality, which entwined their shared desires with wishes and words. That "I" had never been vocalised before.

The end of the staircase came all too quickly for Hermione's liking and she fretfully prepared for what lay in store for her behind Ron's familiar bedroom door. A quick, nervous glance at the owner of that once pleasurable atmosphere and what she was sure to become a torture chamber in a few mere seconds time conveyed to her that he shared her apprehensive attitude.

Molly, however, ushered the pair in the room and gestured that Ron shut the door behind him as Hermione sat opposite her on Ron's bed. This measure to ensure privacy may have worked in the muggle world, and despite the telltale normally warning stairs that creaked with every passage, Molly's thoughts were, for once, not engaged in the successes of her twins' joke shop. Consequently, although her mind reading skills had improved over her mothering years, her thoughtful and caring mind did not connect with the devious yet simple plan of levitation. What flesh-coloured, near invisible objects Fred and George might want to levitate into what promised to be an interesting conversation tat did not have anything to do with them, I couldn't possibly say.

Her thoughts were occupied on what she was about to put herself and her company through. She had thought all morning on what she was going to say to them and eventually, she had come up with what she thought was an excellent plan. She pondered, bearing in mind the delicacy of the glass self image and confidence of the beautiful and intelligent young lady before her, the once shattered and now healed mind of her youngest son. _Yes_, she confirmed to herself, _this is the right way._

Molly had scoured her intelligence for a kind and subtle way to introduce her son and hopefully one day her daughter-in-law into the war zone she had to grown up in, that now faced them. She wanted them think about things, and not feel the pressure of rushing for survival as she did. She looked into Hermione's deep pools of melting chocolate and her heart soared for the girl she had once been, for the woman she was to become; her eyes then travelled to her son's familiar warm and open ones. Yes, she had raised him well; he would stand at her side, throw his body over hers protectively; as she did in all of her sons, she captured the fierce determination and strength in him. He subtly reached out behind him to place a large, open palm on the back of his girl's back in support and her heart swelled with pride.

She passed a steaming mug with a smile to each of them; they in return smiled nervously back, unaware of her inner emotions.

"Get comfortable and warm, for I am about to tell you a story." She shut the once beautiful chaste snowfall that had now turned to sullied sleet out by the homemade curtains with a flick of her wand. Her wand then swept around in a semi circle, illuminating the area with a soft, dim glow.

Hermione's eyes were glistening already, her heart being stripped of years, bearing up her youthful heart to an outside view as she recalled how her own mother told her stories. They were told in exactly the same fashion as Mrs Weasley had just demonstrated and she felt a sudden link between her own and Ron's unknown childhood. She had felt so long ago that she was far too old for a story-teller, and memories swam in front of her. Her grandfather was reading to her, settled at his feet, both staring into the flickering flames of her own winter living room. She listened to the rumble and hush of his husky voice that could be contorted into a rainbow array of characters.

She pressed her back into Ron's open hand and he countered her pressure with his own. She missed her family dreadfully, but knew she could not return to them without endangering their already precarious safety. Her view fixed on the mother figure before her and she felt accepted and loved unconditionally, her previous anxieties banished.

As if sensing the whirlpool of emotions flowing inside of Hermione, Molly gave her another comforting smile before she began her story.

"This story opens with a young lady a little older than you, Hermione, and looked just like your sister, Ron. I am sure you can deduce that her name was Molly. Just like you, Hermione, she had a gorgeous boyfriend, and his name was Arthur. Molly would have done anything for him, anything he wanted of her she would have willingly given, indeed she was a Monday's child – loving and giving. She would have followed him anywhere; into the most threatening danger she would have gladly stepped into, marked her own gravestone and died on it just for one last glimpse of that ever-present lopsided grin reserved for her on his handsome face. He was born on Saturday, and true enough, he did work hard for a living. Now, to turn back time, we shall see where Molly started out.

"Molly became a part of the Prewett family in 1950, when the scare of the opened Chamber of Secrets five years previously had just died down. She grew up in a pureblood family with her parents and her two older brothers, Gideon and Fabian."

As his mother paused to take a sip of her own steaming mug, Ron felt, rather than heard Hermione's shocked sharp intake of breath as she realised just exactly who Molly Weasley really was. Suddenly, for the first time in her life, she regretted the prolific study and wide variety of background reading she had done. Hermione wished she could stay ignorant for a few precious minutes longer of the pain and suffering that the mother before her had endured.

She knew, now, why she had nearly suffocated Harry with affection and constantly surrounded her valuable family she had created around her. Molly Weasley knew the twist of a knife in her heart, and Hermione's own heart bled for her. Quite abruptly, the absence of herself from her family caused more pain for her as she realised how lucky she was that they were not gone forever. Now dreading the rest of the story, she turned her attention back to her boyfriend's mother with her eyes fixed on her, her delicate hands clutching the warm of the hot liquid in the mug in her lap trying to replace some of the warmth that she lost when her heart momentarily froze.

"As the years went by, her family realised that their only daughter was not the brightest candle in the box, but she compensated for this by having a gift by the stove and a steady skill with a needle and thread. This made her a very desirable young girl from an early age, and to add to her list of qualities, she was a pureblood. Predictably, her older brothers were fiercely protective over her and she was never allowed to go anywhere without them tailing her, secretly or openly. Consequently, her childhood friends were family friends, kept well away from the renowned acquaintances of the Black and Malfoy families.

"So, naturally, in 1961, two years after James Potter and Lily Evans were born, when she received her Hogwarts letter, Molly was excited. She loved to socialise and her dolls had been to more tea parties than anything else. Molly was going to be away from home, with only her brothers there to watch over her for the first time in her life."

A flashback entered Ron's own memory at receiving his Hogwarts Letter. A magnificent owl with well kept feathers winged its way towards him and held its leg professionally out to him. He remembered untying the letter with trembling hands, and spent a few minutes just gaping at the front of the letter to make sure there was not mistake.

Sure enough, in what he now knew to have been Professor Dumbledore's scrawl read:

_Ronald Weasley,_

_The Kitchen,_

_The Burrow,_

_By Owl Post_

Feeling a pattern under his already roughened fingers, he had turned over the envelope to have discovered the Hogwarts crest. He got no further, before numerous jokes of mistakes and failures began being prophesised courtesy of his older twin brothers. His mother, however, gasped with relief more than surprise, her youngest son was not a squib as she had been told in her nightmares of the previous year. She clucked around over his shoulder as he read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)_

_Dear Mr Weasley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and_ _Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment_

_Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress_

He remembered how he felt then, like he was riding Harry's Firebolt. He imagined the marching parade of proud soldiers his mother had felt storming through her mind. She was going to Hogwarts; she was a witch.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_**Well, I hope you enjoyed that. I know it wasn't the "chat" you all expected, but I can't go getting predictable, now, can I?**_

_**No, the chat isn't finished, I just had to stop it there or I'd just keep rambling on for ages and then you wouldn't appreciate the next update.**_

_**Love,**_

**_x Imperial Princess x_**


	7. Just Like You, Part II

**Disclaimer: You're sure you're not fed up of seeing these yet? No? Oh, well here we go again. This little bit is wholly reserved for stating that I do not own HP. Now, doesn't that bit of computer screen feel privileged…?**

**Hiding In The Shadows**

_Chapter 7 – Just Like You_

_Part II_

**Previously:**

_He remembered how he felt then, like he was riding Harry's Firebolt. He imagined the marching parade of proud soldiers his mother had felt storming through her mind. She was going to Hogwarts; she was a witch._

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Molly Weasley sighed and carried on, images like one of Arthur's muggle video tapes flashing through her vision, "Her years at Hogwarts were enjoyable and it was here that she met Arthur." Hermione's eye's held a wistful expression that did not go unnoticed. It was at this moment that Molly knew that her son had chosen the best possible girl for him that he could. She knew that the would fight and bicker, shout and scream obscenities at each other until they were blue in the face, but that little sparkle she saw in Hermione's eyes bared her soul up to the mother before her.

She could imagine, in years to come, Hermione collapsing with sorrow onto pristine carpet; Ron immediately striding over, coming to her rescue in all the trivial things as he did for the massive obstacles they had face and were yet to come with the rise of the Dark Lord. She pictured Ron bowing his head in shame, mourning or anger; Hermione leaning up to his bent body to cradle his head to her breast. She often saw the flickers of hurt that had flashed across each other's visages throughout the past six years; the swell of pride as they gloated about the other's achievements; the shy smiles of affection they had exchanged. Molly then knew she was wrong in her first thought about trivial issues. Recalling Ron's reactions, she understood that when it came to Hermione, he considered nothing trivial.

"Molly had wanted Arthur ever since the moment she had first set eyes him. He was tall for his age, with a mass of wonderful, thick flame-like hair. Not many girls saw anything special in this hard-working, caring boy, but she thought that her boyfriend was as hot as his hair. She was determined for him to notice her. Molly was a young lady you either hated or loved. Thankfully, at Hogwarts most loved her attitude of loving and giving. This is what drew Arthur to her; not her luxurious tousled curls or her curvaceous figure – he saw her for who she was. It was within those secluded stone walls of Hogwarts that she had her very first kiss." She broke off with another sigh and a glance down at the floor to where her husband was sitting beneath her, before taking a sip of hot liquid to soothe her throat.

"I will not pretend that the relationship flowed as smooth as a fountain, but as water does, it caught the glint of the Sun, scattering the rainbow around them. The Sun, however sometimes hides behind clouds and the colours turn dark, the wind steals the water from its path and cruelly throws it across the ground, dragging it away. Gradually, their relationship solidified into ice as the surrounding temperatures dropped; the winter wind howled and tore at them and yet only shards chipped off."

Ron's brow furrowed at her metaphor but his confusion ebbed away as he realized what she was getting at. Silently, he thanked her for stopping Hermione from raising him high on a pedestal. He knew the sinking, despairing lurch in his stomach; the bright life dying in her eyes as he admitted something he knew would displease her. Actually, now that he thought about it, it was more likely for Harry to be telling her that Ron had done something and her storm over to him to confront him. He hated that feeling of killing her hope and vowed that he would do all in his power to prevent it.

"Two years before Harry's parents embarked upon the journey she had just turned a corner on, in 1968 Molly finished her N.E.W.Ts and left Hogwarts, her relationship with Arthur now as steady as the foundations of the building in which it started."

Hermione began to tensed herself, earning reassuring movements on her back from Ron that comforted her; she sat in silence, her breathing quickening; she knew the charm of the story was turning into a curse.

"The rumors about You Know Who were increasing and people were getting worried. There was a mysterious disappearance every now and then and nobody knew who was going to be next. Whenever she went shopping, her mother made her promise to bring along several of her friends. The wizarding streets were crawling with Aurors and Death Eaters alike in disguise, waiting for the next attack to befall one of their loved ones. Families were branching out to each other and acquiring new members. Many young couples were hastening to marry; the belief that one could no longer be breathing tomorrow firmly lodged in the young generation's heart.

"At the break of dawn, the Prewett family was unaware that their daughter was opening her eyes to one of the most blessed days of her life. The past week had filled her with elation and sorrow as she could not wear the beautiful ring that Arthur had presented her with." Molly noticed Hermione's eyes dart down her left hand. On it were two rings – the top ring was boasting a small diamond slightly raised from the band carved with a simple pattern; below it was a rather old-fashioned looking but beautiful ring; an intricate delicate band of gold sparkling with three diamond studded into it. Ron recalled the history of each of them – when Arthur had first proposed, he had brought out the ring Molly wore first – the ring that had been given to him by his Grandmother to present to his heart's desire; the same ring that would be going to Bill's eldest son. The second ring he had placed on her finger was one that she had chosen herself when he had insisted – proud that he had earned enough money with his newly promoted job.

Molly set her mug on Ron's table and twisted the rings off. She reached out for Hermione's left hand and placed the family ring onto her fourth finger; it was loose but not enough to fall off at every movement. Molly placed her single diamond ring back in its rightful place; she waved her hand gesturing for Hermione to wear the other for the duration of the story. As she watched the girls eyes determinately hold back tears, she knew why she wholeheartedly supported the saying "Actions speak louder than words".

"They eloped together, fearing to announce their wedding to the world, for the evil wizard loved nothing more than to torture and destroy budding hope." The sound of his mother's voice wrenched Ron back to reality; his still couldn't keep his gaze from flitting back to his girlfriend's now sparkling hand. He knew that he would not let that image fade away for as long as he lived; the imprint of seeing her like that snatched decisively into his memory.

"A year on from that, passing Arthur and Molly's first wedding anniversary, James and Lily began at Hogwarts. You Know Who's ascent to power started in 1971. Now with a son to care for, Molly spent her days worrying about whether Arthur was going to return home that night from his lowly job at the Ministry and how she was going to make the month's income stretch to cover everything she needed." Molly's story took a turn, rushing to get over where she did not like to tread. Knowing that the pair before her did not need to know right now about the ins and outs of marriage, she approached her biggest hurdle.

"While placing his dinner before her husband one evening as he folded his newspaper away after a glance at the front page, Molly's grieving for her brothers began. As her belly began to swell with her third child, her grief died and became a shadow in her mind, her heart promising to fight with all she had. The last of the Prewett children would live to see the end." As if saying it quickly would not let the words sink in, Molly tried to show her resolve by controlling her voice that shook – whether from anger or from grief she did not know. It had been a while since she had talked about her brothers or heard them talked about. Thinking about them constantly did not seem to be so powerful.

"Another year went by after James Potter and Lily Evans left Hogwarts in a steady relationship and yet again, Molly became with child. The two developing babies inside of her might be considered a sign of the double amount of damage soon to be caused." Leaving details out would help her, she decided, wishing that she had not been so detailed with her previous parts; it was not that she did not want them to know, but as Harry and Ginny swam into her mind she tried to move on to get the cruelty over with. She hated the way history sometimes repeated itself and knew that if she made things out to be too personal at this point, then she wouldn't be the only one having nightmares. No matter what it might seem like, Molly knew that both Ron and Hermione had a deep worry for the next year – not just for themselves but for Harry as well. If anything involved Harry, they subconsciously involved Ginny too – she did not even want to remember those fatal words of the prophecy.

"Albus Dumbledore used to say that if someone had told Lily she was going to marry James Potter she would not have been able to stop herself laughing in their face. However, she became Lily Potter and married her knight in shining armour. She proudly presented him with their first child all in the same year that was 1980. They moved away to Godric's Hollow one year after that and died when they were only twenty-two, murdered by Lord –V – Voldemort" A loud bang from downstairs diverted their attention and Molly drained the last drops of tea from her mug.

Throughout the story, Hermione's face had showed shock, sympathy, interest, curiosity, happiness, and sadness; the whole rainbow of emotions and her cheeks had stained a glowing pink in the appropriate parts. Now her eyes glistened for the girl the woman opposite her had been and for the people that had surrounded her. Molly reached out a hand to both young adults sitting before her. Hermione placed her soft, small hand into the motherly woman's roughened one. To her surprise, her son took the offered hand as well, only his hand swamped hers, covering it all, just like her husband's did. Hermione held out Molly's ring back to her with a small smile. Molly returned it and she carried on,

"I know where you are, dears and I understand how you are feeling. Your world is filled with a new, finally spoken out, reciprocated love for each other. You want to be with each other every second of the day, even if it is just remaining in one another's sight." Again, Hermione blushed, remembering the events of this morning. She knew that for once in her life she didn't want to read a book, but she just needed an excuse for herself to go outside with Ron. Molly smiled knowingly, but her words did not stop, "You want to know everything about each other, although you have both known the other for nearly two decades, it seems you know nothing about them. I know this; I understand this. I know you are both old enough to decide for yourselves what you want, but please, listen to me; learn from what I have to say.

"I don't want you rushing anywhere or hurtling yourselves into something without a moment's thoughts. The other is not going anywhere without you; you do not need to worry. You remain in each other's sight most of the time and I have no plan to put a halt to that. I am just asking you to slow down. You know what I am talking about. I know that there are fourteen year-olds who give up their virginity so frivolously in the heat of a moment and then regret it. I do not want you two to have regrets like that, I want you each to know that the other cares for you, loves you and everything about you is special to them. Is this right, Ron?" Mrs. Weasley turned to her son and squeezed his large hand reassuringly.

Ron felt a bit embarrassed at the whole situation, but realized that as usual, his mother was right and she knew what he was thinking and saying it to Hermione wouldn't really do any harm. Ron had grown up in a very open environment and so once he was able to get the words out, all would be fine. He looked at his girlfriend, trying to put everything he felt for her into that steady gaze he kept into her beautiful pools of chocolate brown eyes. "Hermione, I love you so much that, like Mum said, I would do anything you wanted just to see you smile. What's more, I'm really glad I told you that because I'm proud of my love for you and I know that I'm one hell of a lucky guy to have you." At this, Ron didn't know who was the more ecstatic, his girlfriend or his mother; both sat there beaming at him. He decided that it was worth all the mortification of telling Hermione he loved her in front of his mother. His inner voice, however (between chuckles) reassured him that his mother knew anyway – a long time before he did.

"And Hermione?" Molly prompted her with another reassuring squeeze of her hand.

Hermione's cheeks were steadily glowing brighter. This would be the first time she had told Ron she loved him. He knew this as well, which was a good thing, because unless he kept on looking at her as he was now, she knew she could not say it in front of the wonderful woman who brought him into the world. "Ron, I love you," she stated simply, her perfect teeth biting at her lips letting her know she wasn't finished.

Molly Weasley left the room, satisfied with her efforts, to find out what mischief her boys had got up to in the space of time she had left them dangerously unattended. Hermione leaned closer to Ron, snuggling into him, her words whispered into his jacket. She knew what she was going to say next and it took every inch of her Gryffindor courage to speak the words, "I know I don't have to hurry in giving you my virginity because I've already given you my heart."

_**You either hate that line, or you love it – it all depends on how much sugar you put on your cereal...**_

_**Reviews would be appreciated x x x**_

_**Love,**_

_**x Imperial Princess x**_


	8. WORMs

**Disclaimer: Next time I look in the mirror, I shall try and remember not to delude myself that I am a) pretty, b) rich, c) intelligent or d) The owner of HP and his universe. **

Hiding In The Shadows

_Chapter 8 – W.O.R.M.s _

Previously:

_Molly Weasley left the room, satisfied with her efforts, to find out what mischief her boys had got up to in the space of time she had left them dangerously unattended. Hermione leaned closer to Ron, snuggling into him, her words whispered into his jacket. She knew what she was going to say next and it took every inch of her Gryffindor courage to speak the words, "I know I don't have to hurry in giving you my virginity because I've already given you my heart." _

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

True to the time old tradition, Christmas Eve saw Harry and Ron parked on the latter's bedroom floor wrapping Christmas presents. This, one might think, would be a not-so-stressful thing, seeing as it had happened every year so far, the only difference being that previously, they had been seated in their dormitory and were accompanied by various other male members hiding from respective females so as not to get caught "leaving things to the last minute". However, just barely a week ago, Hermione had been teaching them her new "wrapping spell". Oh, how they wished they'd listened to her wise words of wisdom . . .

As is typical of the female species, Hermione and Ginny knew exactly what the boys were up to, and seeing as they were baking Christmas biscuits in the kitchen (with sugar and spice and all things nice) the two of them decided that they would not spoil the boy's charade.

"So?" Ginny finally asked, expectantly. She had noticed the smile that that been on Hermione's face since she had disappeared somewhere with Ron and her mother. For the past few days, Hermione had been determined not to say anything about "The Talk", but she was bursting to let it out. A slight mischievous smile played around her lips. It was not often she had the opportunity (or the nerve) to play a joke on Miss Weasley.

"Oh, well – you know, she took us into a room and shut the door and talked to us for a bit…" Ginny scowled; this was not what she had in mind. The other, however carried on, "she just talked a bit about the "s" word and umm, explained about it – God knows I still find it hard to look at your parents over dinner..." Hermione had to stop herself from laughing – a mere giggle would spoil it all.

"Hermione!" Ginny howled. She was about to continue when she caught the self-satisfied smirk on the girl's face, "That is _so_ not what happened!" She accused.

"No, it wasn't," Hermione laughed, "but it was fun to see your face!" Her laugh was cut off by a spray of flour landing on her own face, "Hey, that's mean." She dusted it off, but was met by a stubborn look from the redhead. It seemed she was not to escape without telling the tale. She lowered her voice dramatically.

"Well, we were walking behind her up the stairs and I was so nervous. I thought that she was going to yell at us or something! I was feeling so guilty for having being caught like that. Honestly, Gin, you have no idea how embarrassing it was. Besides, what's been going on between you and our resident hero, anyway?" Hermione asked.

Ginny smirked; "It might take a while to explain…" she teased as she gathered the cookie mixture up and began to shape them into cookies.

Hermione returned the expression as she brought the tray out from on top of the oven, "Well, you better, hurry or I'll tell Fred and George what your mother told me about you two." Her voice was sugary sweet.

Ginny's smirk widened, clearly Hermione did _not _notice everything, "They already know." Hermione's face drained of its entire colour, including the rosy blush it had been host to for the past few days.

"What?" No, she had not noticed Fred and George's New and Improved "Extendable Ears". She would have to find out exactly what they knew…

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you boys okay?" The door creaked open to reveal Mrs Weasley. She surveyed the room. No explosive smoke, no fake wand/chicken fights, no succulent looking sweets in sight. Immediately her face became suspicious, "What's been going on?" she asked, peering around for some give-away.

"Nothing." The twins innocently chorused. Her eyes raked intently over their room they had taken over once more for the festive holidays.

"I thought I heard a noise." Her tone was low and cautious, what _had _those twins been up to?

"Seriously, Mum." George piped up, "We weren't doing anything…" With a last scan around, she left, her fluffy slippers padding down the old staircase.

"…Much." Fred added as the door shut itself.

Fred sat back from the entrance of the sideways box at George's feet and collected all five of their prototype W.O.R.M.s up. He charmed them still and the twins looked back to one another with evil grins on their faces. They wondered how long it would take for their Watch-able Omniscient Room Monitors to strike again. Really, it was all Harry's idea… If he hadn't been patiently explaining to their frothing-at-the-mouth-with-excitement Dad about some Muggle man called James Bond and all his gadgets, they wouldn't be in the exclusive position they were in now.

Another knock at the door and Fleur came in, "What 'ave you two done to you're muzzer now?" She asked, inviting herself in and sitting on Fred's bed opposite the twins. "She iz all of a flutter!" The French woman exclaimed.

George nodded to Fred and he opened his palm to Fleur. She moved back away from him, muffling a cry with her hand displaying her beautiful engagement ring.

They chuckled at her reaction to the wriggling grubs as she uttered with pure disgust in her tone, "What on Earth are zey?" Her eyes sparkled with horror, but marked curiosity.

"W.O.R.M.s" Fred announced proudly. She raised an eyebrow at him, "They won't hurt you, and they're not slimy." He added. She dubiously edged nearer to his once again outstretched hand. George gestured and she held out a shaking hand to the twins. Fred selected a W.O.R.M. and dangled it over her palm. At the last minute she shrieked and took her hand away.

"They won't bite you, they just tickle a bit." George assured her. Cautiously she moved her hand back up again and George held her slim wrist in place so she couldn't shoot it back again. The W.O.R.M. was wriggling about in between Fred's fingers and Fleur jumped as he suddenly let go of it.

"What exactly duz 'e do?" she enquired as she lifted the W.O.R.M. up to her eyesight in her palm, examining him as he rose up to wriggle around one of her fingers. She twisted her hand to keep him steady, her eyes alight with inquisitiveness.

"He's a Watch-able Omniscient Room Monitor." George explained. She looked up at him, confused.

"A what?" She asked.

"You can see what he sees, he can see, hear, smell, taste, he'll alert you when anything interesting is happening and… he's everywhere." Fred finished, as if he had just conjured a sack of real galleons. She laughed and they scowled. "What?"

"He's zounds rather sophisticated for you two." They exchanged glances, "Show me?" she carried on before they could reply.

Before the twins could do anything, let alone reply, the W.O.R.M. began to wriggle about in a small circle. When he had completed it, a small, black sphere materialized and began to grow. It grew until it was the size of a small book laying onto Fleur's palm with the W.O.R.M. wriggling on top of it.

Suddenly, the blackness blended into colour and as the W.O.R.M. looked at her, Fleur looked down on the W.O.R.M. hole to see her own face looking up at her. The W.O.R.M. began to wriggle about and Fleur watched, fascinated as the W.O.R.M. crawled onto the floor and under the twins' beds. She could smell the musty smell of dust and explosive power remnants that must have infiltrated into the floorboards. She could hear the even minute scuffling of the old bits of parchment laden with ideas as the W.O.R.M. crawled over it.

"'e iz amazing! She exclaimed, "Eet iz like I am a worm, and I can go anywhere wizout been zeen! I could go anywhere – think of all ze gossip I could learn!" Her face looked as if someone had told her there was a knock back on all prices in Madame Malkins only open to her.

"Imagine what we've learned already." Fred said smugly. He tapped the W.O.R.M. hole with his wand, picked up the W.O.R.M. and put him on Fleur's hand. The W.O.R.M. began to nibble away at the hole until it was gone, in a surprisingly short amount of time.

"What 'ave you learned?" he smiled at the W.O.R.M., almost not believing she was pleased that the twins made her hold a vile insect. She leaned forward as the twins began to disclose some rather hazardous information to her… Information that had the three of them cackling with laughter.

Outside the door, Ron's face paled.

Fleur thanked the twins and turned to go, her hand twisting the door handle, "Oh, one zing, may I 'ave 'im?" she gestured at the W.O.R.M..

Ron hopped about as he tried to engage his brain. It wasn't working. He had approximately one more minute before the twins would have found Fleur a suitable home for her W.O.R.M. to her liking.

As she stepped out of the twins' room, her W.O.R.M. in a small, patterned wooden box, she looked down at the bumpy shape outside the door. There were points and odd shapes underneath a robe… What on Earth could that be? She stopped to consider it for a moment before shrugging and walking down the stairs to drag Bill off to a corner and show him her prize, after all did she really _want_ to know what was outside those two's room?

Five minutes later Bill shut the door to his room, "What is it you have there?" he asked her, smiling at her. She was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement.

Fleur's reply was lost by the thundering of feet down the stairs, but by the time they had opened the door, there was no-one in sight.

**_Sorry for the lack of updates, but it's nearly Christmas holidays, so it won't be that long again, I promise! _**

**_Reviews mean a lot - particularly since I haven't got many for this chapter..._**

**_x x x _**

**_Love, _**

**_x Imperial Princess x _**


	9. The Fade Of Frivolities

**Disclaimer: I do have to inform you that I am not JK Rowling, so I'm not writing about my own books….**

**Hiding In The Shadows**

_Chapter 9 – The Fade of Frivolities._

The laughter from the breakfast table died down as an ashen faced Harry entered the kitchen as though in a trance. He was unfazed by the amount of freckled faces turned to him, goggling at his zombie-like expression.

"I have to go back." He uttered in a monotone. Ginny couldn't move – Hermione cast her a sidelong glance, though George got in first, attempting to lighten the dense tension in the air.

"Well, thanks for that – you know, it would have been really annoying if you hadn't explain that so fully." Molly glowered at her son, and his smirking twin.

"Harry, dear – what in Merlin's name is wrong with you?" She asked him, coming over to him to fee his forehead. He pushed her hand away.

"I can't talk about it. I have to go." His gaze lingered on Ginny for a moment before he strode out. They assumed he walked away after his surprising declaration to collect his belonging, though their was a collective jolt as they heard the bang of the front door.

Arthur spun round just in time to catch Harry disapparating. "He's gone!" The man exclaimed, pointing at a shocked pigeon passing by with an accusing finger. He repeated himself, unable to form an eloquent sentence. His wife, however, ignored him and collapsed in a chair, her plump form shaking with shrill sobs. Bill extended a comforting arm around her as he shushed her. Fleur astutely glided over to the teapot and refilled it with steaming water from her wand.

Ron stood dumfounded, his chair falling backwards with a clatter onto the floor. Hermione had dashed outside, the cold December wind whipping at her flyaway hair, searching for a trace of the wizard. Fred and George looked as though they had had a mirror placed in between them, their faces displaying the same disbelief and horror.

After bringing the full teapot over and placing it beside Bill, Fleur turned her gaze to the youngest Weasley. Her svelte figure darted around the assorted Weasleys clustering around their mother or gawping from the doorway at Ron, who had joined Hermione, yelling to be heard over the wind. She reached Ginny, who had not moved and slid her soft hand into the redhead's and lead her to the tranquillity of the living room.

The quarter veela was only slightly taller than the numb girl as she pulled her into an embrace that started to rock from side-to side. Eventually, Ginny suddenly clawed her way apart, a wild and hungry look in her eyes, "I can't just let him go like that."

Fleur's now sad, blue eyes held an uncharacteristic display of emotion and wisdom, "You have to." She said softly, watching as Ginny crumpled to a heap onto the worn down rug covering the flooring.

- - -

"Sorry, Gin, there's still nothing yet." Hermione told her morosely, watching the fire die in her friend's eyes once more as they took their places at the table just the same as on that fateful day.

Fred bounded in to join them, "On the fifth day of Christmas, my try love gave to meee…" George appeared behind him, "Five go-old rings!" They ended up either side of their sister. She smiled half heartedly,

"Still not out of the spirit, eh?" She laughed, a fake laugh to only her own ears before leaving the kitchen to climb up the rickety stairs. She basked in the solitude of her room. Just lately, it had been so hard to have any time by herself with all the inhabitants of The Burrow attempting to distract her with this or that.

I took her a while to catch sight of a small package lying on top of her box of chocolates she kept on top of her desk. She could almost feel the package recoil under the severe gaze of an unfamiliar dark owl perched superiorly upon her desk. She approached it timidly, eyeing the sharp beak and pointed talons. Her heart was racing, could this be from Harry? But no – Hedwig had mysteriously disappeared along with her master.

Ginny flicked her gaze to her door and silently padded over to her door to flick the lock before sitting down on her bed. The creature was still glaring at her impertinently and she tried to put the thought to the back of her mind. This intimidating situation didn't have a familiar air of the Boy-Who-Lived...rather the approaching feeling when she used to stare at the board before realizing the Potions homework she had spent the night on was left in her dormitory.

The lifted the package to test its heavy weight. Carefully, she placed it back down as she began to undo the red and green ribbon. She teased the knot undone and the chilly material fell apart revealing the contents. She stared, thinking that this was not right. Ginny's ears picked up an indignant sneer from the owl as it held out its leg to her. She rolled her eyes at the bird before rising to take the parchment away from it. With trembling hands, she coaxed the parchment attached from the death grip, slightly anxious of tearing the seal a little. She heard the scrape as it came free. The owl placed its leg back on her desk as its eyes followed her every move. Clearly, it was not going to go away easily.

She broke the seal and opened the letter. Her sense of confusion only tripled as she forced herself through her incredulity to read it again.

_Weaslette,_

_Keep your silence and you'll live to fight alongside him. He has been called by the remaining horcrux. He has succumbed to its spell. The Dark Lord will have his last chance to triumph. I know how to tip the balance in your favour. Do you trust me?_

_- Master Malfoy_

She had half a mind just to throw it in the fire. What nonsense was this? Harry's arch nemesis was…offering her _help_? This couldn't be. She gazed at those deadly words, _Do you trust me?_ He was Draco sodding Malfoy! She laughed in astonishment. They had spent the better part of Hogwarts annoying each other, spitting out insults at the opposite house and getting the other into as much trouble as possible… He had the audacity to ask if _she trusted him_.

Her immediate answer was No. Then than morphed into WTF. Then the wheels of her brain started to turn. There must be a reason for this.

Ginny looked once more at the gold loop earrings, locket and bracelet in the package. She squinted at them as if she might be hallucinating. The ferret was sending her jewellery, offering her help and asking if she trusted him. The only thing that made sense was the owl. If not for him, Ginny would have been assured that it was just an un-funny prank.

Then again, she had no proof that the package was also from the ferret, although it _was_ tied with a Slytherin colour. She shook her head, if it was from someone else, Hedwig – she mentally ridiculed herself – she meant _the delivery owl_, would surely wait for her…just as this owl was.

Her eyes scanned down to _Master Malfoy_. She was certain that idiot had delusions of grandeur. This was a trap – he just wanted to use her for information. She scoffed – if he thought her to be _that_ stupid, she mused what her other adversaries thought of her. What was more, that bloody bird was still piercing her with its black eyes. She rolled her eyes in response, realizing that it wanted a reply.

Praising her older brothers for their ingenuity, she pulled out one of their Untraceable Quills. Scrabbling for a scrap of parchment, she dictated _What are you playing at, Malfoy?_ Before shoving the so-called "reply" into one of the owl's talons. It hooted at her before it gracefully flapped its wings cuffing her as it deliberately scratched her arms. She shooed it out of her room and shut the window, cursing herself for her own stupidity. She had bitten the cheese.

_Yes, I do realize that this is still on hold, and it is just over a month until my first of many exams. So I'm sorry to say that updates won't be regular, but I haven't forgotten you! Reviews would be appreciated x x x_


	10. Somezing,,, Stupid

**Disclaimer: I do have to inform you that I am not JK Rowling, ****so I'm not writing about my own books….**

**Hiding In The Shadows**

_Chapter 10__ – "Somezing…Stupid"_

The icy midnight air caressed her face on the unusually still January evening. Ginny didn't miss the whipping wind or rain– her insides were more than making up for it. Her stomach twisted and dropped every time she saw a dark shadow fly out from the overgrown forest in front of her. Flinching slightly, she forced herself to creep down the large expanse of garden surrounding her higgledy-piggledy house, trying not to wake up any gnomes.

Crossing her arms over her breast, she picked her path across her garden, attempting to keep her mind away from her foolish behaviour. She remembered her mother's outrage when the boys had sneaked away in the middle of the night to rescue Harry from the muggles. Yet another twinge was sent down her spine as her thoughts drifted back to Harry. Think what fury her mother would be in when she discovered Ginny was not at the Burrow in the morning.

She had no clue how long this "business proposition" of Malfoy's would take. She was even cursing her own idiocy for not even leaving a note… Then again, she would not want any others to endanger themselves by coming after her. She had a nasty, sneaking suspicion that she was willingly walking into a lion's den… or rather, a snake's nest.

She had spent the afternoon debating on whether she could risk it, but came to the conclusion that Harry had deliberately left her behind. There must be something he didn't want her to know. Before, he had always made her aware of what hazardous episode he was embarking on before he swanned off. But this morning when he just…went… without a "goodbye" or "don't worry"… just a measly _glance_. Now _that_ had her worried more than any old diary.

Not that what she was about to do was any more sensible, mind. Ginny knew perfectly that this was not a good idea, but somehow managed to shove that thought to the back of her mind as her pale hand gripped her wand.

Pushing her way through a dense, leafy ivy bush covering what seemed to be a wooden plank, she fumbled around for a doorknob. Her hand was coated in slug slime by the time she had wrenched the shed door open enough to squeeze through the tight gap. Berating herself for that extra slice of apple tart that evening, she shook her long curtain of read hair over her face to rid it of spiders. Blindly scrabbling about for a splintered wooden broom handle, she stepped gingerly over floor that crunched sickeningly beneath her. Grimacing at the thought of what she might be stepping on; Ginny felt relief when her wrist collided with the old Cleansweep.

By the time she emerged into the less dim light, her hair looked as though she had a veil of cobwebs draped over it. She impatiently brushed a hand through her hair and shook the dusty cobwebs away, dusting her hand on the chill grass beneath her. With a deep breath, she kicked off from the ground.

Memories flooded to her from times where Harry had retold the tales of that exhilarating first time he flew a broom. Just as the countless vibes of elation sparked through Ginny, she felt her concerns drifting away, being left behind on the ground.

As she soared above treetops and out of sight, a pair of sad blue eyes, usually filled with beauty, watched her go. Fleur turned away from the windowsill and removed the creamy satin robe she had draped around her shoulders. Wrapping it over the back of the wooden chair tucked under Bill's childhood desk, she knelt onto the bed beside her husband, scarcely denting the mattress.

The eldest Weasley son twitched out of his sleep, the instincts he was becoming accustomed to, telling him that all was not as it should be. As the part veela sat up against her pillows, hugging her knees, Bill raised himself up on one elbow to face her.

"Fleur?" He whispered huskily, encasing his large, scarred hand over her elbow. She bit her lip, staring into nowhere as he dragged her down under the duvet so that she did not get cold. He turned her on her side and rested his hand on her right hip. "What's upsetting you?"

She blinked as if coming back to the Burrow after a long absence of mind. "Your seester." She replied in a hushed voice, "If I tell you – you 'ave to promees you will not do anyzing." He did not reply but carried on looking intensely at her. She took his silence as acquiescence. "I feel zat she has done somezing…" She paused, casting around for a better word, but decided she couldn't find on, "stupid. I zink it may be somezing to do wiz 'Arry."

Bill nodded at her to go on; his grip around her tightened, "Ginny 'as been quiet all day. 'Ardly a word to anyone after 'e went. She 'as just flown over ze trees. I did not see where she went." She looked down, trying not to let her emotions show on her face.

In a flash he had made an effort to leap out of bed, but her small hand on his shoulder stopped him. She had a surprisingly strong grip for a figure so petite. "You promeesed, Bill." Frowning, he returned to her. Sure, Ginny was sociable enough in company, but there were times where she just had to get away from it all. He had felt like that too, at times. She had always loved flying, and this wouldn't be the first time she had taken a midnight ride.

With an uneasy glance to the un-curtained window, Bill snuggled Fleur into him, wondering whether his baby sister would return for breakfast the next morning.

_It's half length, as I am aware – but I wanted to update. My first exam is in less than a week so there might be another long break. On the brighter side of the coin, I have had massive new plot developments and I know exactly where I'm going instead of only half knowing._

_Oh, and I would greatly appreciate reviews_

_x x_


	11. The Aftermath

**Disclaimer: Yes we all must confront our worst fears. Many writers in this community share common fears, such as spiders… the dark… small spaces… not owning Harry Potter… –screams-**

**Hiding in the Shadows**

_Chapter 11 – __The Aftermath_

The silence drifting across the kitchen of the Burrow was disturbed for a moment. Just a small moment that lasted only a few seconds. The effects of that moment would last a life time. With the inhabitants of the Burrow sound asleep, only the kitchen utensils jangling in the slight draft would have noticed the Clock. One hand bearing the label of the only Weasley girl ticked from _Travelling_ back to _Mortal Peril._

_- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -_

The weak sun attempted to shoot its strongest rays far and wide across the world in the early hours of daylight, though Ginny's share of the sunlight was nowhere to be seen. The state of her appearance did not even bother her – she looked like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards. Well, considering her nightly activities, she probably had been under tress, over bushes, through flowerbeds to emerge into a clearing.

Cursing under her breath that heavy rain had prohibited her from flying over the final forest between her and Malfoy's latest hideout, she pushed her way up to a stone path. The stones were worn and grey, rounded at the edges from centuries of use. They built up a cobbled street, mingling with weeds forcing their way through the crevices between the old stones. The path weaved around the ruins of what could have once been the entrance to a house… or indeed a mansion.

She hardly expected Draco Malfoy to be keeping company with his poor mother in these perilous days, though it would be predictable that he would _acquire _an abode suited to his prestigious Malfoy name. The flowerbeds either side of the pathway were crying out for attention, their brown and shrivelled leaves drooping sadly on the ground, whilst their roots were covered in thick layers of fudge-coloured sludge.

Dead leaves were strewn across the stone, making them slippery, whilst more leaves that had lost hope fluttered around her to land and became trapped in the mess on the floor. The surrounding trees were devoid of wildlife expect a large, ugly crow that was cawing loudly at her. Its harsh cry grated on her ears before the bird took off as she approached and stared it down.

Summoning much needed Gryffindor courage, Ginny left behind the sorrowful garden and hid her broomstick amongst its concealing growth along with a charm that Tonks had taught her to camouflage it further. Turning back to the foreboding mansion, Ginny shoved the ominous thunder out of her mind as she bravely stepped up the pathway.

She came to a large archway, entangled plants weaving around its frame, a few tendrils draped down like fingers waiting to catch an unsuspecting victim. Silvery spider webs dangled and webbed themselves between stray tendrils of curling plant-life. How ironic the term, as these guards seemed to be the only plants most succeeding with their will to live. The large canopy of over-sized branches obscured all light and rain form the inferior vegetation below them. In the torrential rain, a few drips slid down a drooping tree bough to mock the lower flora, falling onto the archway.

Ducking her head and squeezing through the arch, avoiding the branching tendrils that grabbed at her head, the light available dimmed further as she passed into a smaller entrance garden. She realised that the tall trees were quite incubating as a gust of wind echoed around her. Trees still surrounded her, though left more gaps in between themselves, upper limbs still webbing together to obstruct the wavering light.

Ginny shivered as she walked past an old well, clearly out of use, its broken bucket swinging aimlessly in the wind, whilst it's handle rocked and squeaked. This place seemed to be calling out to her for care, though screaming at her to leave in the same instant. The great Manor house loomed before her, dreary windows concealing shadows behind the grime as vines of ivy competed with them to reach the roof.

Her footsteps were muffled on the stone steps by the coating of slime built up over years of misuse. She vaguely wondered how Malfoy could have made this place habitable inside. As a heavy silver snake door knocker, tarnished from years of misery and rain eating away at it came into view, a small smile flickered across her face. A brief moment of amusement chased away the sinister sense of ominous warning that had pervaded her spirit. She almost rolled her eye at the cliché scene, though her mind turned to the task at hand.

Shaking her hand to still it of its nervous spasms, she picked up the silver knocker, grimacing at the icy sensation of chilled tree-sap sticking to her hand. Ginny pounded it on the door twice before waiting at the uppermost stony step.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Assorted members of the Weasley family collaborated in the kitchen, time adding to their number as they succumbed to the reasoning that none of them would be able to lie in bed once they had woken up.

Ron collapsed at his usual wooden chair and crossed his elbows on the table, sinking his head onto them. Not even the smell of sizzling bacon wafting around the Burrow roused him from his depression which diffused around the family.

Mrs. Weasley attempted to bustle about in her usual manner, tightening her dressing gown against the rain that battered determinedly against the shutters over the back door and dripped down the kitchen windows dejectedly as the glass denied the water entrance. However, her slippers scuffed slightly on the floor as she focused her mind upon the stove before her, flicking her wand about here and there as she cooked breakfast.

Her husband slouched at the head of the table, _The Daily Prophet_ spread out on the table. He stared at it vaguely, not reading the print, nor even seeing the words and pictures of the weeping relatives of recently deceased loved ones or determined young sons joining the Ministry Defence Squad. Molly Weasley spotted the reading material and shooed it out of her kitchen into the fire, the flames immediately licking the fuel. Her actions jolted Arthur out of his stupor as he turned around to apologise and set the table.

George attempted to bound down the stairs, but gave up halfway down as Fred followed him into the kitchen, sensing glorious food.

"Cooked breakfast, boys?" Molly asked, sounding falsely cheery as she turned to the twins.

"Thanks, Mum," and "That'd be great," sounded simultaneously from them as they joined their father and youngest brother at the kitchen table. A silence hung oppressively in the air, damping what little warmth there could be in the atmosphere.

Another set of faint footsteps echoed on the stairs as Hermione entered, covering a yawn with one hand. She gave a wan smile to Mrs. Weasley, who handed her three cups of tea. Hermione immediately recognized Ron's favourite mug. The glaring orange of the Chudley Cannons was the only brightness in the room as dark clouds covered the sky. She set it down beside him and ruffled his hair slightly once Mrs. Weasley was handing out mugs to the others. Everyone else was far more interested in their own woes to pay attention to what others were doing.

Hermione set her own mug down next to Ron and then looked around for Ginny. "She hasn't come down yet, Hermione, dear." Mrs. Weasley seemed to have read her mind, "Would you mind taking it up to her?"

Hermione replied that of course she wouldn't mind, and began to ascend the uneven steps once more, the tea of the mug warming her hands. She walked slowly not to spill it on the long journey to Ginny's room.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The massive door creaked open, its pointed arch at the top slip straight down the centre. Ginny peered cautiously around the door, before she noticed a tiny house elf pushing the giant door open. Despite its height, it glared at her haughtily and welcomed inside, "Miss Wheezly?" it squeaked as though to check that she wasn't impersonating anyone. Ginny couldn't see why _anyone _would _want_ to come all this way just for a chat, but she clarified her identity to the elf all the same.

"I'm here to see Malfoy." She told the elf in clipped tones. Surrounding her was a once grand entrance hall, weeping with even more old spider webs tangled with dead insects. The curtains were probably filled with doxies, and there was what looked to be a moke basking in the warmth of a torch above it. The torch also illuminated a slimy trail of venomous streeler slime. How Malfoy had managed to keep such creatures evaded her.

She quickly looked back at the elf before she saw anything else. It grimaced and sneered at her back,

"Well of course you are. Master Malfoy is in his study." And without another word, the house elf set of at a fast pace through the twisting halls and staircases, Ginny hurrying behind it.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bill was laid out on the sofa facing the facing away from the kitchen table towards the rain-splattered windows, staring moodily out at the drenched garden. Fleur came back from her mother-in-law's tea making spree with two steaming mugs. Placing her own on a table beside Bill's sofa, she handed one to him. He smiled thanks up at her before sipping it and handing it back to her. She placed it next to hers to cool down as he shifted further into the sofa back so she could fit onto the sofa with him.

With her back facing his chest, she closed her eyes as his chin rested in the hollow of her slim neck. Mrs. Weasley glanced indulgently at them before returning to the breakfast. Admittedly, at first, she did not like her eldest son's choice of a bride. Though now she knew the girl behind the beautiful exterior, Molly could see exactly why he chose her. It wasn't about beauty, jobs or family name. It wasn't true love at first sight, attained only after life's obstacles thrown at them for years.

The couple had combined life's obstacles into their strong relationship, taking falls in their stride, ready to catch and comfort the other when they fell down. Molly knew that those two would have their moments of hatred of each other. Most likely it would be hatred because of a love so strong that would to anything to prevent the other from emotional harm.

Physical harm would not faze them, as the quarter veela had proved most admirably. She would heal his scars of life to make him complete, whilst he would give to her what she never really had – a family, someone to see her for who she was inside, and someone to hear her tantrums and laugh with her unreasonable commands. She would soothingly assure him that she really did prefer rare steaks, and that his tentative lycanthropy did not stop her need for him any more that her Veela heritage deterred him.

Pausing in her thoughts, Molly reflected how just recently, it seems she had misjudged the efforts and motives of the younger generation. Perhaps she really was getting older?

Hermione returned down the stairs, an ashen expression on her already pale face and a steaming mug still in her hand. "Ginny's gone." She croaked.

_There we are. A lovely long update for you – I hope I get reviews!_

_Note:__**Moke **__– a silver-green lizard up to ten inches long able to shrink at will (so muggles cannot detect them). Its skin is highly prized among wizards for money bags and purses as Moke-skin shrinks at the approach of a stranger, making it difficult to thieve._

_**Streeler **__– A giant snail that changes colour every hour and has a venomous trail so dangerous that it shrivels and burns all vegetation over which it passes._

_Definitions misquoted from Fantastic Beasts And Where To Find Them by JKR for comic relief. Oh, and I haven't just chosen those creatures because I think they sound good, by the way._


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